


Prototype

by juuuke



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe, Android, Cute, Fluff, Happy, Light Angst, Robot, android!zelo, platonic, prototype - Freeform, twist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-16 22:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11262060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juuuke/pseuds/juuuke
Summary: The future is lost to technology and Yongguk hates it. Ironically, the only thing that can bring him out of his dulling discontent is an oddly familiar prototype.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers. To clarify, this isn't a romance fic in the least, this is a little short meant to give you fluffy banglo feels with a bit of a twist toward the end so stay tuned and I hope you enjoy.

“It's not for sale."

“I’m not looking to purchase.”

A man with little spark left in him, tosses a towel sporting stains hardly identifiable to the side and steps toward the stranger in lassitude. “Then step away. Can ya read?” He motions at the fading sign, reading ‘Damaged Goods.’

With a click of his tongue, Yongguk slides a step or two back, smirk turning up just the corner of his lips. He takes another glance at the model situated a few yards to his left, unable to stop his thoughts from vocalizing. “Why is he damaged? He looks like one of the new models from EVO. They’re the only manufacturer with less than one percent malfunction and even then it’s just a tiny glitch, you know, something small like a misguided pinky.” He gives his pinky a flick as the man advances, stopping inches from the younger’s face.

“A glitch can go a long way, boy.”

Yongguk tilts his head, wafts the sour breath festering in their proximity with a wave of his hand and when the air seems bearable replies, “First off, would you like a piece of gum?” He pulls out a stick from the inner pocket of his jacket and extends it in more of a plea than an offer, the other ignoring it altogether.

“No?” Yongguk shrugs, unwrapping it for himself and continues, “Secondly, I’m not a boy. Thirdly, I’m here to inquire about the job posting.”

The man who looks to be in his forties, splotches on his shirt fermented with sweat, clears his throat as he walks away. “Position’s been filled.”

Yongguk frowns in dissatisfaction. “I just saw you put the sign up in your window. Literally minutes ago.”

The man doesn’t turn, just proceeds to a hall beyond sight. “I said it’s been filled, kid.”

“May I at least ask by who?”

“Anyone but you,” the elder spits before a door closes in the distance. Yongguk smirks, “Nailed it.”

Curiosity gets the better of him as he shuffles around the shop, which takes the form of a garage – grimy and worn – yet somehow comforting to someone like Yongguk. He likes things others find frivolous and worthless – the obsolete, the fathomable.

The world has changed and so has its people. It is the reign of technology, robotics, scientific advances of the like. It’s fascinating and convenient, but incomparable to times before. Yongguk sees insight within the trinkets and devices that once brought societies together. He hears laughter through their fibers, feels the rapture in being one part of a whole. He envisions a world beyond this, but its not in these metallic boxes or LED monitors. It’s inside – within everyone. They just need to find it. The world is lost in their virtual lives and Yongguk hates that they can’t even see it. Is this what life is? Is this what living is?

He funnels through piles of unorganized junk, slaps his hands together in clouds of dust. Cobwebs and dirt adorn most of the place and it’s a wonder they’re still in business, but he finds no reason to question because there is more this place has to offer than anything else out there.

He circles the shop once before he ends up back to where he started and as if beckoning him, his eyes creep to the android model crammed between shelves and books and boxes. Slowly he makes his way closer and when he is within an arm’s length from the model, he stops. His eyes scan with scrutiny, observing every detail, climbing back up to its face. It’s scary, he thinks, how lifelike it is and he almost forgets that he’s looking at a robot. While his mind is absorbed in thoughts teetering on humanity, his hand is reaching out. He’s so close, he can almost swear he feels him breathing and just as he’s about to stroke the cheek too tangible to fathom, his wrist is snatched in a grasp tight enough to bring him back to reality.

“I told ya don’t go near it.”

Yongguk’s heart settles back into his chest and he pulls his wrist back to his side, head drooping in slight shame. “Sorry.”

The man examines the other. “Ya got spunk, kid, I’ll give ya that,” he chortles in amusement. He pulls a chair from a nearby desk, legs scraping in unpleasant screeches. Yongguk obliges and sits, cringing as another is dragged beside him. The man extends a hand and grins, answering an unasked question under the younger’s stare. “I’ll take that gum.”

Yongguk picks a stick from within his pocket and watches it disappear beneath the mess most call a moustache.

“What brings a kid like you here? Don’t you have statuses to update or virtual games to be playing?”

Yongguk smirks, leans to prop elbows upon knees. “I find today’s world lacking.”

The elder furrows a brow, interest peaking. Without further insistence, the other continues, “All this technology…it’s great and yeah, it makes life easier, but I don’t know. I just think there should be something more to life than this, ‘na mean?”

The man finds himself smiling as he follows the latter’s notion, confounded by the perception resonating within this youth. Perhaps, he isn’t the kid he thought he was.

“Ya know, kid, I don’t know why, but I’m taking a liking to ya. So I’ll tell ya what. Tomorrow’s your first day,” he holds a finger before him, “but you’re on probation.”

Yongguk nods in appreciation and before he has the chance to thank the man, the other is halfway across the room.

* * *

“Morning, sunshine. Grab these, will ya?” A box is tossed into Yongguk’s arms the moment he enters the shop. He straightens out, searching for a spot to place them.

“Wher-“

The elder interjects, “Next to the vinyls.”

Yongguk starts left to right. What in the world is a vinyl? He hears a husky chuckle from behind and the voice he is familiarizing himself with croaks, “There, in the crate to your right. Those giant black discs are called vinyls or records.”

He nods, setting the box down and looks back to the other for additional instruction. The old man feels eyes boring into his head and grins, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Yongguk shakes his attention elsewhere. “What um, what do you want me to do?”

The man pauses to think then resumes sorting through boxes. “Whatever ya damn like.”

Yongguk cocks his head a bit, unsure if the other is joking, though when nothing else is said, he asks again, “So what was the position you were hiring for then?”

The man laughs, “Just thought it’d be nice to have a voice to listen to other than mine. Didn’t think anyone would wanna work here though. Was sure as hell a kid like you wouldn’t even step foot in this place.” He chuckles again and gazes in the younger’s direction, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little surprised that ya came in today. I remember what ya said last night. I just…found it kinda hard to convince myself that we aren’t all lost in this digital utopia or what have ya.”

Yongguk finds a broom still in fairly good condition, starts sweeping around the nearest wall. “What do you mean by that?”

The elder replies simply, “The same thing as you. It’s so easy to get lost in the world of technological precedence. Ya hardly see folks interacting. Hell, they all chat through screens and their little handheld devices. They’ve got simulations and things like that. Ya don’t even have to be yourself anymore. They’re all about just as human as those robots they rely on.”

Yongguk stops sweeping and takes a moment to observe this man. “What’s your name?”

“Just call me Joon. What about you, kid?”

“Yongguk.”

“Yong Guk,” the elder repeats, “Ya know what, Yongguk, I don’t really have a job for ya per say. Just uh, just do whatever ya like. Organize, sing, stand there, I don’t care. Ya can stay as long as ya want or leave early, I’ll pay ya either way.”

Yongguk lets an airy laugh out. “So…you’re basically just looking for company? I guess it can get lonely here, huh?”

Joon rakes fingers across his cheek and under his chin. “Kid, I’ve been lonely for sixty years.”

Yongguk nearly drops the broom, eyes rounding in shock. His voice cracks with disbelief, “S-sixty? You look forty!”

Joon snickers, “I never said all scientific breakthroughs were bad. Remember about,” he cuts himself off, shakes his head, “Ah, you probably weren’t even born yet. Anyway, decades ago they made a law banning manufacturers from producing and selling consumable products that are or contain certain genetically modified material. But there was a small sanction within the community that harbored a lab with auspicious results and so they were granted immunity as long as the officials approved their research. Needless to say, the lab was more than successful in their work, but the products that were approved for retail were only available to those near the top of the hierarchy.”

Yongguk leans against the wall, “And that’s why we haven’t seen these products?”

Joon nods, “I needed money at the time so I volunteered to be a part of their test groups. They’ve been supplying me since.”

The younger is impressed, though a tad confused. “So this…food. It keeps you young?”

“It slows the aging process. So much so that it practically freezes time. I was thrity-eight when I volunteered to test their products. I’m eighty-nine now,” Joon states, grin smug.

Yongguk has to spin in place to keep from flying across the room. Technology might not all be so bad after all. Perhaps there’s hope yet.

An invisible pulse rattles through him and he feels it – a spark of something more, a piece clicking into place.

* * *

Months pass. A mutual bond has grown between the two, changes made on either end. Joon’s face is now bare, shirts less stained. Yongguk’s naivety sharpening, respect more engrained. They’ve become accustomed to one another, comforted by the other’s presence. Joon finds the younger’s bright and industrious spirit refreshing and doesn’t take notice how much it affects himself, not that he would mind because things have never been better.

The shop is picking up business and he gives full credit to the man currently setting up a register. Yongguk has been nothing but helpful and ambitious and as a result, they’ve been receiving curious passersby and hopeful visitors singling this place out.

Yongguk is quite keen on the old man, though he’d never admit it what with how stubborn both parties are. He takes pride in their success, how he practically turned this place around, and inevitably turned Joon upside down. When he found the old man, he was filthy, unorganized, bitter. Yongguk never intended to make changes to the latter, appreciating and respecting him all the same. In fact, there was something that he liked about him from the start and he’d always make sure to take just a little more care when it came to Joon – leaving a mug of coffee on his desk before he came in, placing a cushion atop his chair, posting notes around the back room about not leaving the lights on again.

Joon has never met anyone like Yongguk before – someone constantly searching for more, looking to the future but clinging onto the past, someone who gives without asking a favor in return. He finds himself smiling all the time even when the situation doesn’t call for it.

Yongguk doesn’t know just how deep he’s settled himself into the elder’s heart. Likewise, Joon doesn’t know just how much he’s influenced the younger, how he’s fathered him.

* * *

Everything has a place. There’s no longer dust layered over cluttering masses lodged into every nook and cranny in the shop. There’s actually some sort of system in place, categorizing, organizing, room to freely walk. The damages are now in a separate room in the back, but Joon is in possession of the only key to enter. To Yongguk’s surprise, the old man is just as protective over that model as he was the first day they had met and it only fuels his rising curiosity.

There’s something that Joon is hiding and Yongguk is adamant about finding out what.

“What are ya doin?”

Yongguk jumps a bit at the question digging him from his thoughts. He is standing in front of the door to the damages without an excuse to equip himself with. Slowly, he faces the elder, tries to hide the guilt in his eyes. He clears his throat in an attempt to stall, but Joon knows better.

“Kid, I don’t know what your curiosity is with the damaged goods, but don’t bother ‘cause I’m having them shipped for proper disposal tomorrow.”

 _Tomorrow_.

Yongguk has a mini panic attack as the words ring in his head. He needs to get into that room. Now.

*

It is well into the night, light buzzing in the back room. The shop has been closed for a couple of hours already and its owner is packing things to be on his way. Yongguk crouches behind a wall, watches from safety as he moves about. He can see the key-card dangling from Joon’s side, so close yet too far. Joon is calling out for him and he rises from his spot, but hesitates before responding when the elder unclips the key from his side and places it in one of the drawers in his desk. Yongguk leans to get a better view, focuses intently on the pass code being punched in to open said drawer. Again, Joon is calling his name and he enters.

“What’s up, boss?”

“Ya ready to go?”

Yongguk is quick to nod, but takes a glance at the secured drawer and clucks his tongue. “You know what, I just remembered I have to get a few things ready for Mr. Moon tomorrow.”

Joon nods, tosses him the key. “Lock up and don’t stay up too late. Ya need your beauty rest, you’re lookin a little haggard there,” he exits with a chuckle.

Yongguk smiles and waves before locking the door behind the old man. Hurriedly, he makes it to the back room, presses the pass code into the drawer, nerves prickling his fingers. A green light flashes, prompts him to pull the drawer open. He picks up the key-card, holds it for a moment as if it were gold and looks to the room adjacent.

Step by step, he lessens the space between them and when he is close enough, inserts the key into the slot. A click is heard and the door pops open. Yongguk pulls it further and lights flicker on one by one. There are bots awakening, beginning to roam about, making sure all is in place and Yongguk ducks behind a rack to shield from one rolling past him. It turns out that the damages room isn’t a room at all, but a warehouse. The area extends beyond what he initially thought, shelves stacked to the ceiling with so much more than he imagined. This room is nothing like the shop, it’s modern and clean and slotted with technology he’s only seen as a child.

His eyes trail after one bot to the door he left open and before he can even take a step toward it, the bot is raising a red light. Yongguk dashes to its side, pulls the door shut and gives a smile, which is more of a habit than a compromising gesture. The bot scans over him once and when he thinks it will all be okay, it starts blaring repeatedly, “Unauthorized personnel!”

Yongguk jumps back with the booming sound and pats his pockets frantically for something, anything that will shut this thing up. He pulls out the key-card, holds it out to the bot that gives it a scan and just as suddenly as hell was breaking loose, the light retracts and the bot continues on its way. Yongguk shakes his head in disbelief and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He needs to be more careful.

Aisle by aisle, he ventures through the warehouse. It is magnificent, grand if you will. He hasn’t seen a collection of electronics, machinery, and automations in so long. It’s all so overwhelming that he almost disregards the fact that this all belongs to Joon, a man who is repulsed by such things, a man who runs an antique shop. It’s then that he stops to think. Why does Joon have all of this and why is he hiding it from Yongguk? He saves the questions for later and proceeds deeper into the warehouse. He is coming across every bit of technology that one could imagine – most of which is from EVO – but he can’t seem to find the one thing he came in here for.

“Where are the androids?” he whispers without intention.

“This way,” a computerized voice prompts. Yongguk looks down where a bot is outstretching an arm and begins rolling away. Yongguk follows suit, unsure of where he is being taken, but he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter.

The bot stops before a wall and Yongguk raises a brow in confusion. The bot’s arm transforms into a sort of flat tripod and he presses it to the wall. A pattern of lights illuminates beneath its hand and Yongguk’s eyes round with the platform that rises from the ground. The bot rolls onto it, Yongguk doing the same and the platform begins descending until they are a level beneath the warehouse. The bot places it’s hand against another wall and this time, it opens up into a room much smaller than the shop and Yongguk sees it, sees what he’s been searching for.

They both enter and the bot waits along the side as the human explores the secret room. Various operations boards line the walls, cables and tapes and recordings of what ever are packed to one side. Yongguk doesn’t waste time on anything else, just advances toward the one thing that’s been prodding his mind from the start.

Joon has placed the droid behind a secluded casing in the back of the room. Yongguk presses a hand against the glass and lets his eyes consume the sight before him. The droid looks to be no older than eighteen, hair a tinted blonde with silver hues, skin as pure as a newborn – soft and white, jaw subtle and sweet rounding into a modest chin and Yongguk feels himself inch closer to the glass, gravitating toward the other. The other robots, they don’t look like him, their features aren’t soft and inviting, but this one, there’s something different about this one. Yongguk tilts his head to the side and squints. Behind its right ear there is normally a model number and maybe even a sequence engraved, but he can barely see a number or two so he leans against a panel on his left to brace himself better, his finger accidentally pressing one button too many and the glass flies open.

“Shit,” Yongguk curses under his breath and he looks to the bot for help on how to close this damn thing, but he figures he might as well take the opportunity while he can because the old man will probably kill him in the morning. So he turns back to face the droid and leans in close enough to see the model number clearly.

96XXV-ZELO-p

“96? I don’t recall a 96 series for EVO droids,” Yongguk mumbles to himself.

“Zelo. That sounds so familiar. Zelo,” he repeats just a bit louder and a scene flashes through his mind of a past, of a childhood, of blonde locks and laughter. He cringes a bit with the fleeting image and shakes his head from the nonsense. What even was that?

He says it once more as if his memory will jog, “Zelo.”

And in that moment, he takes a hard look at the droid’s face, only this time it’s eyes are lifting open and Yongguk feels a thump reign against his chest, his heart is beating beyond its means and his throat is constricting with each second that passes and when the droid meets his own gaze, he freezes completely.

Those eyes. They are ineffable, warm. Yongguk knows these eyes, he sees the light in them and he reaches a hand out to brush over a face too surreal to perceive. Fingertips ever so gently graze the skin over its cheek and he flinches just the slightest at how tactile it is.

A sense of transcendence pulses through him and another piece falls into place.

The droid never once takes its eyes from the man before him, almost as if it were observing him, taking him in. It reaches an arm slowly upwards and takes Yongguk’s hand into its own and for a second Yongguk worries that he may have done something wrong, but when his eyes meet the other’s once more, the fear leaves him. He notices how gently the droid is grasping his hand, not doing anything, just holding it and there’s a sense of security and of familiarity and as he pulls his hand away slowly, the droid drops its own.

Yongguk’s breathing is cautious, careful and he speaks softly, “Zelo. Is that your name?”

The droid cocks its head at a slight angle and repeats, “Zelo.”

His voice is as soft and angelic as Yongguk had imagined and he smiles, “Zelo. I like it. I’m Yongguk.”

The droid tilts its head back to its original position and responds, “Yongguk. I like it.”

Yongguk’s smile widens, excitement brews within. He still has no clue as to why this model is damaged, but he definitely knows it’s not marketable either. He doesn’t know of any 96 series to ever exist, much less one that has a name imprinted with it.

“What did ya do?”

Yongguk snaps his attention to a livid Joon standing on the lowered platform he had just come from and steps back.

“I-I uh, I don’t know I just. The glass just opened and I-“ he cuts shorts when the man stomps toward them and is pushed away.

Joon examines the droid for any disturbances and Yongguk swears he sees Zelo giggle when the man touches his side, but immediately stops when a stern look is thrown his way.

When all seems content and unscathed, Joon barks, “How did ya get in here?”

Yongguk sheepishly pulls the key-card from his pocket and hands it over to its rightful owner. Joon snatches it with aggravation and palms his face with a sigh. “Kid, there are reasons I tell ya to not do things. Why must people always do the opposite? Why are ya so interested in this?” he questions, gesturing toward Zelo.

Yongguk looks at the droid and counters, “Why are you so tenacious about keeping him a secret?”

“It’s not a him. It’s an _it_. And that doesn’t concern ya,” Joon spits.

“Joon, you know you can trust me. What's going on?” Yongguk pries, dissatisfied with all the secrecy.

Joon lets out another sigh, rubs a hand over the back of his head. “All right, ya can use it, but don’t let anyone else know about it.”

“Why?”

“Kid, ya ask too many questions.”

“But, boss.”

Joon gives a look that Yongguk deems dismal to fight and backs down. He glances at Zelo and gestures for him to follow as they enter the platform. Uncomfortable silence suspends the trio in awkward veils along their ascent, Zelo the only oblivious one and thankfully so, Yongguk thinks. As they walk through the warehouse back into the shop, Yongguk arouses the courage to speak. “Boss, I’m sorry.”

Joon waves an indifferent hand, anger no longer prominent. “It’s all right, kid. I knew ya were gonna dig in there sooner or later. That’s why I told ya I was gonna have em disposed of. But I guess it’s better for it to be out than rotting down there anyway. I’m sure you’ll get some use out of it.”

“Do you mind me asking why you refuse to call it a him?”

Joon stops walking, stoic as can be. “Because _it_ is not alive. _It_ cannot feel. _It_ is not a being,” and with that he continues toward the door. There’s an edge to the way he calls it an _it_ and it’s not something Yongguk sees himself getting used to.

Zelo trails behind the younger and though it may seem as though he should be offended by the old man’s acerbity, he remains complacent, visage a clean slate of nonchalance. Yongguk thinks that perhaps being a droid has its perks – not having to fuss over emotions, not feuding over frivolity, not having an expiration date to name a few.

Joon slams the door behind them and holds out the key-card to the younger. “Take it. You’ve already gone in there. You’ve already restarted my droid. I already warned ya, so it’s your responsibility now.”

Yongguk takes the key with hesitation, voices a thanks in unsure tones and tucks it away.

“So…he’s mine? I can take him with me?”

Joon takes a moment to decipher the consequences, but nods in compliance, “Ya can take it, but don’t let anyone know what it is. Do _not_ let them see its model number either. Be very careful, Yongguk.”

Yongguk glances at the droid looking to him for direction. He slips out of his jacket, places it over the droid's head and laughs when Zelo's face peeks through the neck hole.

“You have to put your arms through these, okay?” Yongguk orders, lifting either arm of the jacket.

The droid does so, but the jacket is falling at his waist and Yongguk chuckles again. Zelo is much taller than himself and the jacket is an ill fit, but it will have to do for now. He pulls the hood over the other’s head with tiptoes, bracing himself on Zelo’s shoulder. Yongguk jumps a bit when he feels hands at his sides, helping with his stability and just like before, Zelo’s touch is careful.

Joon is pinching the bridge of his nose, he knows this probably won’t end well, but what choice does he have? He invited this kid into his life and inevitably that kid dug his way into his heart and into his secrets and that’s as far as he’s going to let him go. He’s already seen more than he should have and there isn’t more he is willing to share. With a heavy breath and a solid hand, Joon is telling the younger to take care and to be discreet as he exits a second time and the younger is telling him to not worry, that it will be okay. Joon’s lips scrunch into an unconvinced grin and he is gone. Yongguk opens the door, calls the droid to come and locks up the shop.

Rain is pelting the pair, soaking through threads. Yongguk shields his face from the unrelenting torrent, but looks up when it suddenly ceases. Zelo is hovering with arms elongated, propping the jacket Yongguk had just placed on the droid over the human protectively.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be wearing that.”

“But you are getting wet,” Zelo contends.

There’s a lilt in his voice, precious enough to leave Yongguk shushed in captivation for a moment. He’s never met a robot that acts without instruction like this especially in situations where the latter is, what is it exactly, concerned?

Yongguk reaffirms his objective and tries to tug the jacket away from the other, but Zelo is holding strong and Yongguk finally gives in.

“But you have to cover your,” Yongguk pleads, pointing behind his own ear. Zelo is quick to comprehend and gives Yongguk the jacket to hold while he rips a ring from the bottom of his shirt, ties it around his neck, positioning the bow to cover his ear completely. When he is done, he lifts both arms to reclaim his place as designated jacket holder, but Yongguk brushes him away, “I got it.”

Zelo drops his arms, shifts forty degrees to Yongguk walking away, and follows. They stroll side by side into the night, the rain never letting up and every so often Yongguk sneaks a glance at the droid dripping from head to toe without batting an eye. He nudges Zelo’s arm, twinge of guilt burrowing into his stomach. Zelo looks down at the jacket being offered to him and declines with a polite shake of his head, but Yongguk isn’t going to give in again. If Zelo isn’t going to take it then he’ll just have to improvise. So he throws one end of the jacket atop Zelo's head and reverts to facing forward when Zelo looks to him once more. Through his peripherals, Yongguk swears he sees a grin and the other speaks, “I told you that I do not need this. I appreciate it though.”

Yongguk stops walking and the jacket slides off of the droid’s head when he stops a few steps ahead to look at the human.

Yongguk is staring, confused. “You…you _appreciate_ it? I guess they implemented these kind of sentiments into your vocabulary when they programmed you, huh?”

Zelo shrugs, “If that is what you wish to think then yes, it is so.”

Yongguk’s brows furrow in bewilderment. “So you’re telling me that you can feel. That you know what appreciation is and things like that?”

“I am not saying that.”

“But you’re not confirming my initial notion either. So what? Can you feel or not? Wait, why am I even asking you this? That’s not possible,” Yongguk scoffs at his own absurdity and continues to walk, Zelo matching him stride for stride.

“If you do not mind me asking, where are we going?” Zelo inquires.

Yongguk hands him one end of the jacket in another attempt, “Will you just hold it, please? We’re going to my house.”

Zelo pinches it between his fingers, keeps it suspended above his human and Yongguk snaps a look that the other is quick to answer with a grin, “You said hold it.”

Yongguk rolls his eyes but can’t help the smile gripping his own lips, “Great, I’ve got a droid with a sense of humor.”


	2. Two

“This is my apartment.”

“Could have deduced that much.”

Yongguk chortles with the remark he brushes off and returns from the bathroom with a towel to dry his new droid. He hands it to the other before taking a seat on the couch, commanding the television to power on. The next thing he knows, half his vision is being blocked by a towel as a hand gently rubs circles into his scalp. He jerks to the side in response. “What- what are you doing? You’re supposed to use that to dry yourself.”

Zelo pulls away and smiles, “I know. And I’m using it to dry you.”

Yongguk gets up from his seat. “Okay, I don’t know what exactly you’re programmed to do, but I am not used to…silliness coming from a droid. So, uh, could you tone it down? I mean I know you’re designed to assist, but I don’t need you taking care of me.”

Zelo’s arm falls lifeless to his side, towel dangling. Yongguk stares for a moment when he catches what seems to be sadness briefly gracing the flawless face exiting to an adjacent room.

It isn’t possible, he thinks, for a robot to be sad.

\- - -

A groan pries Yongguk awake and he looks to the clock. He’s slept the entire night away on the couch and to his surprise a towel is folded neatly upon a pillow and a blanket is tucked snugly around him. He takes a sweep of the room to find Zelo standing in a corner.

“Good morning.”

Yongguk stretches, yawn pulling features taut.

“You should shower and change into fresh clothes.”

“What?” Yongguk asks.

Zelo motions at the latter, “You fell asleep in damp clothes so it is plausible that you will become ill. It rained last night in case you don’t recall.”

Yongguk breathes a laugh, “I remember. And I guess you’re right. I’ll be back and we’ll get something to eat, okay?”

“We?” Zelo asks, hint of excitement lining his tone.

Yongguk stops in the hall and nods. “Yeah. You’re coming with me.”

Zelo smiles, “But I don’t eat.”

“You don’t have to eat to come with me,” Yongguk replies and disappears behind a wall. Zelo returns to his place in the corner with a smile, hands folded neatly in front.

-

“Do you want some?” Yongguk smirks, hovers a spoonful in front of Zelo’s face. Zelo gives a hesitant stare, unsure of the correct response and his human breaks into a chuckle as the food is retracted.

“I’m just joking, Jello-ah.”

Zelo gives half a smile, “Jello?”

Yongguk shoves the generous helping into his mouth, nods once or twice. He leans closer a moment after, speaking so only his droid can hear. “Nickname. Is that okay?”

Zelo tilts his head in agreement, repeats the name inaudibly to himself, “Jello, jello, jello.”

Yongguk consumes the rest of his meal, stealing glances every now and then at the delicate face opposite him. He finally lets free the smile he can’t seem to repress and Zelo is quick to take note of it.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is making you smile?”

Yongguk clucks his tongue, avoids the question altogether and motions for them to be on their way, knowing his droid will leave it at that.

\- - - 

With time Yongguk comes to find that the line between human and robot is often blurred and he has to remind himself that Zelo isn’t human. People rarely interact out of lack of necessity and Yongguk, swallowed by the chaos, hates it because he too gets lost in translation.

Yongguk has invested much of himself into his droid, Zelo reciprocating all the same, constantly making sure that his human is optimal, taking the time for the little things – carrying Yongguk to bed on nights when he is too drunk to even find it, silencing the alarm on mornings he’s able to sleep in, tidying up the apartment, leaving the corner lamp on so Yongguk doesn’t bump around at night.

Zelo is a burst of jubilation from the mundane. The droid finds satisfaction in things most people would look past, he holds doors open for others, grabs things too far for some to reach and Yongguk finds himself growing fonder of him with each day. It’s baffling, he thinks, that a robot can make him feel so much more than any human ever did, but he never once questions it because perhaps this is what he needs. This is what he’s been yearning for – _another piece notches into place_.

\- - - 

It’s a Sunday afternoon. Joon has given Yongguk the day off and he’s sure to not waste it. He and Zelo are strolling past a park and the taller halts abruptly.

“Hyung, can we go here?”

Yongguk has taught the droid to refer to him accordingly and he’s come to rather like the title. _Hyung_. He smirks to himself, gently presses a palm into the small of Zelo’s back and they walk in sync to the park.

They end up stopping every few yards because Zelo sparks with interest at every other thing and as he observes, Yongguk is doing the same only his subject of study is the droid and he grins before swiftly looking away when Zelo turns to him with a smile too wide for a face that adorable.

The robot is crouching with knees tucked close, focus intent on a squirrel not too far away. Slowly, Zelo creeps and when his foot touches the ground, the squirrel scurries up a nearby tree. Yongguk laughs, ruffling the silver tresses on the crown of his droid’s head.

They make it halfway through the park. Yongguk leans back into the bench, legs at full extension. He looks to his right at his droid whose eyes seem to disappear behind excitement and follows the other’s gaze to a father and son laughing amongst themselves. The child is running, being chased by his father and the two seem to have not a care in the world. Zelo’s nestled into the grass with fingers digging into the dirt. He sits a minute before his focus travels back to his human, eyes round with curiosity.

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?”

Zelo parts his lips to speak, but refrains with a shake of his head. “Never mind.” And when he redirects his gaze, Yongguk sees slight disappointment. So he rises, makes his way over and extends a hand. Zelo takes it without hesitation and is pulled upright.

“Are we leaving?” the droid asks and without a word his human lightly taps his arm and is bolting off into the field. Zelo stares, waiting for instruction, but Yongguk just keeps running turning every few seconds to see where his bot is.

“Come on!” Yongguk shouts, waving a hand for his droid to follow suit. Zelo still doesn’t understand, but starts toward his human regardless.

“What am I to do, hyung?” Zelo continues after his human and just as he’s about to reach the latter, Yongguk darts in another direction.

“Chase me! Try to catch me!” he yells through pants.

Zelo pauses to look back at the father and son, comprehending the situation at hand and smiles as he starts toward his human once more. He is fast, much faster than Yongguk, but slows each time the proximity between them becomes too close, faking an attempt at catching his human and he smiles when a dignified grin crosses the other’s face. It doesn’t take long for Yongguk to realize that Zelo is letting him win and although his pride is short-lived, he fumbles onto the grass to accept defeat the only way he knows Zelo will let him. So he waits as his droid approaches with caution, asking if he is okay and Yongguk laughs it off, reaching for his droid’s hand to get back up. Zelo cocks his head to the side, examines his human briefly and when all seems right, returns to lock eyes, blinking a few times waiting for further instruction.

“Run,” Yongguk says, motioning with his left hand to nothing in particular. He smirks when Zelo remains by his side. “Go and run. Now I’m the one who has to catch you!” He takes a step toward the droid who takes a step back and he nods, smirk growing. Zelo’s feet are hesitant at first, but then he is off into the park with Yongguk on his tail and he makes sure to keep a steady pace slow enough for his human to keep up. When he thinks a sufficient amount of time has elapsed, he mimics the other and falls as convincingly as possible to the ground. Yongguk doesn’t react in time to avoid tripping over Zelo, ending up on top of the latter and he chortles.

“Hey, you don’t have to copy me and fall down.” Yongguk pokes at the droid’s chest. For a moment, he forgets that Zelo isn’t human and his fingers dig gently into the droid's sides and it wouldn’t have registered that he was anything but because Zelo is squirming under him, laughing as whole-heartedly as his tender voice allows. Yongguk takes note of the slight impression forming into Zelo’s cheek as his eyes shrink into crescents and everything seems to pause. _A piece snaps into place_.

Then all at once Yongguk stops, abruptly removing his hands from the other’s sides, smirk wiped clean from his countenance. He remembers that Zelo is just an android, that he doesn’t know what a tickle is, that he isn’t capable of feeling it either and yet, here they are in the grass laughing like kids and it feels so right. With Zelo everything feels right. Yongguk doesn’t feel the pressure of society, doesn’t see the vacancy he does in many eyes, doesn’t remember the pain of being alone. No, with Zelo, he doesn’t feel the desperate yearning for something more that had plagued him so for so long.

He shifts from on top of his droid and stands. “I almost had you,” he says to ease the awkwardness only he can feel and somehow he knows Zelo will understand it is sarcasm.

\- - -

“Let’s get ice cream, Jello-ah.”

They enter a quaint ice cream parlor, Yongguk’s hand placed in the small of Zelo’s back as always. He almost misses Zelo mumble, “They have it.” And he can’t help but ask, “They have what?”

“Mint chocolate chip.”

Yongguk searches for the flavor among the bins and smirks, “Yeah, they do. It’s my favorite.”

“I know.” Zelo’s response prompts the look he’s grown accustomed to. 

“What would you like, sir?” The girl behind the counter turns to take Zelo’s order, but Yongguk is quick to decline. “He’s lactose intolerant,” he says with a smile.

-

They continue down the sidewalk and Zelo glances down with the tiniest of grins. Yongguk licks away at the rapidly melting scoop in hand, noticing his droid’s gaze. “What are you grinning about?”

“Are you sure you should be consuming such products?” Zelo smiles, poking lightly at his human’s stomach. Yongguk laughs at the contact.

\- - -

Months elapse, filled with laughter, something Yongguk had been without for a long while. He often forgets Zelo is a droid, not that it matters anymore.

\- - -

“What is your function, Jello-ah? I never got around to asking you.” Yongguk asks and plops next to his droid, the latter shifting to face him.

“I have many functions.”

“No, I mean…well, what do I mean? I mean most androids have a main function, a reason that it is built.”

Zelo is quiet for a minute and it makes Yongguk mute the television, turning to focus on his droid. 

“My purpose,” Zelo starts, “is to be here.” Yongguk’s brows furrow in confusion, but he waits before asking for elaboration. Slowly, Zelo’s eyes lift to meet his human’s. “For _you_.”

Yongguk doesn’t know what to say, just sits frozen, lump burrowing deep into his throat and he isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but he doesn’t fight it.

-

Zelo walks steadily beside his human who seems hell-bent on getting somewhere fast and waits for the hand he knows will find its way to the small of his back, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Yongguk’s pace quickens and before they know it, they’re getting into the car.

“Where are we going?” Zelo asks to no avail.

Not a word is spoken the entire drive until they jerk to a stop in front of the shop. The fluorescent open sign is off, the sky is dark and there looks to be no one inside, but Yongguk hurries in regardless.

“Joon!” he calls out, wasting no time in rushing to the back office.

Zelo locks the front door behind him and follows after his human. Yongguk is shuffling around, back and forth and he stops in frustration for a second before he remembers something. Quickly, he punches in the pass code for the drawer on Joon’s desk and grabs the keycard he’d long forgotten about. He makes his way to the damages door and just as he had done the night he found Zelo, he exhales slow and inserts the key into the slot and when the door opens, the lights are already on.

“Joon!” he calls again.

“Yongguk?” a husky voice answers, sounding a fair ways away. Joon removes the mask from his face and heads toward the duo. “Hey, kid. What are ya doing here so late?”

Yongguk doesn’t know where to start, struggling to manage a word or two, tugging at his hair for some sort of response. He assumes he looks a mess, face contorting into five different emotions all at once and it’s Zelo that breaks the silence.

“He needs answers.” Zelo’s current tone is one that Yongguk isn’t familiar with and he’s not sure if he likes it. Gradually, his hands fall back to his sides and he looks from his droid to Joon and nods. Joon takes a hard look at the droid before turning back to Yongguk with a sigh. He’s about to walk away, Yongguk knows, but he can’t let him. Not this time.

“Joon. Please.”

The old man stops.

“Please tell me what’s going on. I-I don’t even…just please.”

“Kid, like I said, ya ask too many questions,” Joon retorts as nicely as he can and he begins walking toward the door.

Yongguk yells, “Boss!” and it makes the elder stop again. Zelo senses the need for comfort and offers an arm wrapping around his human’s waist just enough so his fingers grip firm against Yongguk’s side.

Joon’s head drops a little and Yongguk takes the chance to get what he came here for. Unlike earlier, his thoughts spew all at once. “Boss, he’s some kind of new model or something and yet you had him sitting in dust like he’s been here for a while. I’ve never seen a 96 series before and he even has a name. How do you have a model that’s not even on the market?”

Instead of an answer, the younger gets met with, “How do you know so much about droids?”

Yongguk chews on the inside of his cheek, naivety getting the better of him. How did the situation turn his way?

“I, uh,” he licks his lips, looking around for an excuse. Joon raises a brow. There’s no escaping. Yongguk struggles to swallow. “My dad…is the president of EVO.”

Joon’s eyes widen. Yongguk is reluctant to continue, “When I was a kid, he would take me to work all the time. ‘Cause my mom passed before I could even remember who she was,” he lets out a disheartened breath and tries at a smile in more of a salvaging gesture.

“It was cool being in a factory surrounded by all this stuff, but there was always something that I couldn’t get over. My dad was always at work, always had his nose in it. And at first I was okay with being left under the supervision of other employees because they distracted me with new gadgets and stuff, but the older I got, the more I felt reality weigh down on me. My dad was a horrible father.”

Yongguk pauses and looks into Joon’s eyes almost as if to say thanks for being everything his father couldn’t in these past few months, Joon returning with a gaze that needn’t words to reassure.

He looks back down to fiddle with his shirt hem, tone lowered. “So I ran away. And I raised myself and I never looked back. I tried to forget everything because I thought it’d be easier for me to get a fresh start. But I guess I grew up alone either way. Sometimes I try to remember, but I did such a good job at forgetting that nothing comes back to me,” he laughs mostly to himself.

“He hardly had time for me and that’s why I was left to play alone with their products, with their…” he trails off, looks to the droid standing on his right and barely finishes, “ _damages_.”

His eyes never leave the droid and again he can feel it – another piece clicking into place.

Joon feels his throat tighten as he listens and with the final word slipping from the younger’s mouth, everything stops. This is it. He takes a step toward the latter, slow and precarious.

“Yongguk.”

Yongguk doesn’t respond, just draws closer to the droid, only breaking his gaze to blink.

“Zelo,” the name sounds in whispers.

As the proximity minimizes to mere inches, he repeats it once more, this time softer than the last and when their eyes lock in an imminent hold, a pulse rattles through him, resonates down to his core.

_The final piece falls into place._

Eyes disappear beneath a smile, Zelo speaking in hushed tones, “Do you remember me now?”

A hand presses into Yongguk’s arm when he practically stumbles back, brows furrowing with tears he doesn’t hide nor fight. Zelo’s smile drops, concern waving over him as he lifts his other hand to wipe a tear from his human’s cheek. “Why are you crying?”

Yongguk shakes his head, finally breaking the stare. He can’t reply, Zelo knows, but it doesn’t help his unsettled concern rising from somewhere within that even he can’t locate and oddly enough he doesn’t quite recognize the difference between himself and these humans. He looks to Joon for answers and the elder steps forth to provide what little consolation he can.

“Yongguk,” Joon speaks softer than usual.

Yongguk keeps his head lowered and for that Joon is thankful because he wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye.

“Kid, I have something to tell ya. Keep in mind that I–I had no idea at the time that you were… _you_.”

Yongguk sniffles into the side of his hand, tries to recover as best he can and gives a pleading look to the old man for clarity. Joon is quick to avert his gaze.

“When ya came to me that first day in the shop, ya kept looking at my droid and I just assumed that ya were one of those nosy kids. Then ya managed your way into my damages warehouse and fortunately ya didn’t question about anything, though I’m sure ya were curious as to why an old grumpy man like me who owns an antique shop would have a collection of such technology.”

Joon paces back and forth, a rhythm slow and reluctant.

“Anyway, I had a weird feeling on the night that I let ya close the shop so I decided to check on ya and that’s when I found ya in the chamber with my droid… _awake_.”

Slowly, Joon lifts his gaze, takes a deep breath in. Yongguk’s weeping has subsided and with eyes stained red he waits for Joon to continue. The old man shifts to look at Zelo whose eyes are intent on his human.

“Kid…did ya ever try to turn it–“ Joon catches himself, “ _him_ off? Did ya ever wonder why he doesn’t have a switch?”

Yongguk thinks back to the night he had Zelo pressed against a wall, eyes painstakingly examining every inch of the droid, every possible place a switch could have been. He nods once.

“Ya see, Zelo is,” Joon trails off, rubs his face roughly into the dirtied palms of either hand and sighs.

“Zelo is my prototype.”

Yongguk feels his brows pinch together, confusion only festering more and he’s ready to scream because this all doesn’t make sense.

“I used to be the co-owner of EVO. Your father and I started the company together, but my place was never in corporate, I was the technical support between the two of us. I designed each and every one of the products that that company manufactures.”

Joon pauses because he knows this is too much to take in at once, but it’s too late to stop. He needs to tell Yongguk everything. The kid deserves that much.

“EVO began thriving. It was amazing how far we came and how much we developed. Your father would bring ya to work every day just like ya said and you’d stay all day. I watched ya grow up. I watched ya play. Ya were quite the smart kid, I must say. Your future was bright, I knew you’d take over for your father one day.”

Joon clears his throat, checks if Yongguk’s expression is content enough to go on.

“I started working on a project in private because it was one I wasn’t sure would be beneficial to a world that was lacking so much. They weren’t ready for what I was striving so hard to accomplish. I kept it to myself, but eventually I needed the tools and funding that only EVO could provide, so I brought my project to work still managing to keep it private. It would prove to be my greatest accomplishment,” the old man stares long at the droid.

“It was _you_ , Zelo.”

Zelo’s eyes round just the slightest and he points to himself, a smile tugging at either end of his lips. Yongguk glances between the two.

Joon continues, “Like I said, Zelo is a prototype. The idea I had was of a droid that was comparable to a human. Not just in aesthetics, but I mean the details, the composition, the stuff that makes humans human. I managed to create a catalyst that simulates a brain and as meticulously as I could I manifested a system that almost exactly mimics cognitive processes, which is not too different from other droids who function like any computer doing what they’re told. Only, I was able to create a program that allowed Zelo to replicate emotions, too. He can’t feel, of course, he just recognizes which emotion is apropos for any respective situation and emulates it. Though, I found it interesting that it almost seems as if it’s progressed. Like he’s learning.”

Joon pulls his gaze back to the floor.

“I started prototype Zelo to prove to myself that I can go further, but I came to find out that Zelo would do better in the hands of someone better suited for him. So I marked my project as a failure and moved him to the damages. Which were the only products your father would allow ya to play with. I remember the smile ya had when I first introduced ya to Zelo. Ya would play together for hours on end. Ya loved that droid. But the other employees were noticing that there was something indeed different about this droid and they started to question whether it was really damaged or not. So I had to do something quick. I took Zelo’s switch out and replaced it with an internal trigger. One that responds to voice commands. One that can only be activated and deactivated by one person.”

Yongguk stops breathing when the word leaves Joon’s lips.

“You.”

Joon catches the surprise on the younger’s face.

“I guess he recognized your voice despite the difference in age. Kid, do ya remember being let in to the prohibited areas to get a behind the scenes look? Do ya remember sneaking for ice cream every Friday?”

With each question Yongguk feels tears threatening their descent once more. Joon takes the chance to approach, though he stops a foot away and a guise soft enough to melt a heart passes over the old man’s face. He reaches a hand to the younger, his own eyes glossing with tears.

“Yongguk, it’s me. It’s _me_. Joonie-hyung,” his voice cracks on the last syllable.

Yongguk breaks down at the drop of a name he’s held dear from the beginning. Zelo slides an arm to grasp his human’s waist, lets him bawl into the cloth of his jacket.

“Yongguk, I was the one who took on the responsibility of taking care of ya, not because I was asked, but because I wanted to. I became attached. That’s why I left Zelo to ya. Ya were like a son to me. Ya were my pride and joy. Ya were all I had.”

Gentle hands stroke through tresses and Zelo feels the weight in his arms get heavier as Yongguk loses the strength to hold himself up. Joon can no longer choke back his own wave of cries as warm liquid spills and the two sputter in heartbreaking silence. Joon coughs once or twice and hiccups between words, and lets out the last of the weight he’s repressed for too long.

“It broke my heart when ya didn’t come in that day. I had heard that ya ran away. It tore me to shreds. I took what little I had left and resigned from the company. I thought that ya felt some sort of mutual bond just as I had. I thought that maybe I could have been a second father to ya. That maybe I made a difference. Because I saw the look in your eyes every day. I saw the light go out whenever your father would leave. I wanted to help that spark come back. And for a while I thought that I did. And when Zelo came along I was sure that it did. Ya said once that Zelo was your best friend and that you wished he’d never leave your side. Every night when we left the factory we would shut Zelo down, remember? And every morning, ya would power him back on. Ya went home that night. Ya didn’t come back.”

Yongguk sucks a sharp breath in, he doesn’t want to hear more. Joon doesn’t hear his silent plea.

“Zelo never woke up.”

Desperately, Yongguk claws at his bot. “I’m so sorry, Jello-ah. I’m sorry,” he wails. “Joon, I’m so sorry.” And as his cries hinder his breathing, he lets himself fall completely into Zelo who is more than willing to support the both of them.

“Joon-ie-hyu-ung,” he stumbles between howls. Joon drops to his knees, the younger throwing himself into the old man’s arms. Zelo watches helplessly, lets the bout take its course. Softly, Joon coos, holds the younger until he’s all cried out and with a puffy face, he looks at his hyung.

“Hyung, I’m sorry.”

Joon shakes his head. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t make you stay, that I didn’t do more.”

Yongguk swallows hard, wipes at the last of his tears. “You did more than enough for me, Joon. You _were_ my dad. I never got to tell you how thankful I was that I had you. I was too young to realize that.” He turns to look at his droid. “Jello-ah, I’m sorry I left you.”

Zelo smiles. “You never left me, hyung. I always had you here,” he says, pointing to his temple, “And here,” then to his heart.

Yongguk doesn’t hesitate to slide both arms to wind tightly around his droid, the latter lifting his own to embrace his human, resting his cheek atop the other’s head. It’s been too long since he’s held him like this; a smile that forms the slightest dimple takes over Zelo’s face and he squeezes his human just a bit tighter.

This is it.

There are no more missing pieces. For the first time in a long time, Yongguk’s not searching.

\- - - 

The sky is doused in orange, rich and warm. Zelo is leaning with elbows against the railing beside his human, both focused on the setting sun dipping into the tops of buildings among the horizon. They stand in silence on the balcony of Yongguk’s apartment and Zelo shifts to close the gap between them. He’s a mere inch from banging elbows and doesn’t turn when he whispers just loud enough for his human to hear, “I’ve missed you, Yongguk.”

Zelo doesn’t need to look to know his human is smiling and as the sun is about to say its final goodbyes, Zelo takes Yongguk’s hand to rest on the small of his back. 


End file.
